


On the Spur and Whim

by Izvin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adolescent Sexuality, Bars and Pubs, Crimes & Criminals, Dancing, Dancing Lessons, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Irish Language, Love Triangles, Medical, Native American Character(s), Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22612570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izvin/pseuds/Izvin
Summary: Wild west, Irish dancing and sexual tension that challenges family harmony. Not that there is much of it to speak of. What with ancestors from late mother's side and some of traits from father's side and shady dealings behind ilustrious career.Or the risks when you have grown up son, you are disagreeable with and decide to court exciting playful woman of thirty.
Kudos: 1





	On the Spur and Whim

Some Irish tune leaped up and so did Gretel. Straightening like sprung trap, her coppery mane swaying through the air as she turned her head.

"Olaim Puins! I love that song."

"How come you know it?"

His father asked leaning on his elbow.

"In my home town there were many Irish farmers and boatmen. I often heard it on a street, danced to it with other children. Do you want to see?"

She didn't wait for answer, only winked playfully and moved aside to emptier space. Arms slightly raised, wafting with cheery melody and movement, but the main action was performed by feet. She'd hit the ground with her heels and toes in rapid sequence, moving them back and forth and sidestepping and swirling with no clear patterns. Sound of falling acorns and deer hoof beats. Nathan was convinced this footwork surpassed delicate beauty and speed of any doe. Like a... Like a fairy. She laughed and mouthed words.

"Do you also speak Irish?"

His father asked, when the song ended and she stood still. It was the tone he had when thinking about venture.

"Only a bit. I know more of lyrics than actual language."

"What was this one about?"

Nathan inquired. She looked at him, sparkle in eyes.

"Drinking. And utter carelessness."

"Carelessness? No wonder you like it."

Remarked Nathan's father, but there wasn't really bite to it. And she just grinned. New melody wafted through the air, less perky, with slower and more graceful lilt. Gretel outstretched her arm towards Aaron.

"Would you join me?"

He shook his head.

"I am not familiar with the steps."

"You don't need to, it is Sean-nós style, everything is made up on the spur of moment."

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, but then refuted again.

"Nothing for me. I will watch instead."

He ended in lower appreciative tone. Gretel mock pouted. And then turned towards Nathan. He stiffened.

"Nathan, you seem like a fine young lad. Will you sooth grave disappointment of this damsel and return honour to your line?"

So inviting she looked, tips of her feet already tapping slightly and face luminous. He shot quick glance towards his father, who seemed to be largely unimpressed, then looked back at her. She bowed her head encouragingly and beckoned him with curl of her fingers. He nodded silently and stepped forward. Drums and violin and fiddle, they stood opposite each other. Upper body held more rigidly than in rituals he knew from mum, there was thin surficial quality to it, instead of fully fealt flow and blows, energy directed to tamer, lighter, more poised channel. But the ornaments edged by feet had such a splendour, bright and elaborate and precise like needlework and cut of scalpel and he liked it terribly much. Watching her ankles and forelegs more closely now, he tried to repeat the movements, get the feel and tempo of clogging. Quick and changeable like water on rapids, like flight of starling. To keep up was quite a challenge and he had to smile, when he noticed his rhythm matching that of song without stumbling.

"Good, you've got it."

The way she said it, made his heart skip a beat. He raised his eyes towards hers.

"But it is improvised, now start making your own moves."

There was such experience in them. In all kinds of fields. Like she could size up with it even areas she didn't know closely yet. And instead of dry they were... Juicy. He had to close his and tilted his head backwards a bit as he tried to plan his own patterns of steps. Then he heard and felt her move to the left of him, disrupting it.

"Adaptation, change it as it comes, at a whim."

So close she sounds, must be leaning to him as she dances past. He opens his eyes again, twists to track her.

"As you feel in the moment."

Hoppity hop to his right, pleased and amused, then she turns again, strands of her hair tickling him on the nose. They smell of cornflower and something sharp and heady. As he feels? So maybe it is a bit closer to... Wildness. He does improvise then. Snaps his fingers, adds a bit more sway and fullness to motion, now it feels more right and familiar, but shouldn't deviate too much. Song changes to a bit quicker one, somewhat breezy and spurious. He watches her, chest rising with quickened breath and hair jumping a bit. There is new intrigue in her eyes and this time she tries to copy some of his movement. They circle each other, take turns in mirroring movements of the other one, every now and then breaking off with some new tap. They play of each other.

And then she takes his hands in hers. They are the only ones to join. Warm and nimble and commanding, he lets her lead as she moves closer, further, sometimes breaking free, but always returning to his hold, her shapely hip brushing past his and making him swirl her around. She laughs.

"What is this song about?"

He asks.

"Bean Phaidin. About wanting a man taken by other and dislike for her."

She turns a bit to side, jumping with outstretched leg rising high then nearly presses to him. Then the song ends and different, more formal starts. Nathan spots Aaron approaching.

"Your stepping in is no longer required, son."

He announces, eyes undecipherable, tone of voice quite insisting and he seems to loom and vibrate with something. Nathan bows his head and immediately steps aside. Sudden emptiness of his palms doesn't feel right. His father nods and expectantly looks at Gretel who watches them with keen eyes.

"This is something for me."

She tilts her head, coy smile at her lips.

"Good news at last. Prove them then, my dear doctor."

He scoops her up, for this is indeed dance for pairs and off they go, twirling, her comely frame pressed close and fitting so well and gladly into his hold. There are embers in both pairs of eyes. Nathan watches them, leaning against shadowed wall, his hands woven together tightly, as if to capture memory of touch. Round after round. This is what she wanted. Observing is nice too, it is.

Then, in the lull between two songs, a merchant of the name Teddy Coldens stops by his father, they strike a conversation, serious one judging from postures and faces. His father turns back to Gretel, parts with her and then walks away with the other man. Business calling. Nathan is glad, he is not required, because there are businesses and businesses and this one's the kind they disagree on a lot. Line of his thoughts is cut short, when Gretel steps into his sight again.

"You shouldn't be brooding here. How about returning to dance floor?"

"Am I required to step in again?"

"I don't see you as backup substitute. I am asking if you'd like to, because you seemed to be in better mood, when we danced."

He considers that for a moment, considers also teal blue of her eyes drawing him in, closing above his head and keeping out the rest of the world.

"I was."

"And do you feel like giving it a chance...?"

His palms are itching all anew. His arms and chest and back are. Much lovelier kind of business, this. On the spur of movement, according to ones whim. As he feels. As an answer he takes hold of her, swift and close and off they go.

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to gay_bird for inspiring talks, support, pleasant companionship and lots of fun. This wouldn't exist without her input. Read her works, guys, read them.
> 
> I know very little about wild west. If anyone has some helpful remarks, please write them in the coments, I want to improve.
> 
> There might be more to come later. But this works as stand alone perfectly well.


End file.
